He rubbed her back as tears poured from her eyes. He soothed her in Japanese. It was making her really wish she had chose to call her parents instead of talking to him.
But she wanted answers. And maybe it was a bit naive to expect them from him, but his appearance was so comfortable, thinking of her rescuer. She had told him all about her kidnapping, had confided in him. He had offered different avenues of help, but right then, she could care. Didn’t he see she just wanted someone to talk to?
He was a good listener, though. And really, she couldn’t stay mad at him for long.
“Please speak in English,” she sobbed.
“Sorry,” he said. “Habit.”
For a moment, she choked on a smile. But she was crying for a reason, and she couldn’t help but dwell on it.
“Are you smiling?” he asked playfully. “Are you happy?”
She frowned. She knew the answer to both of those questions was ‘no’. “The guy who saved me… looked just like you, you know.”
“You told me.”
He paused, looking at her. “Is that why you’re crying?”
“I’m crying,” she began, “because even when I call my parents, even if by some miracle they can afford to come to Japan to save me just as he did…”
“What?” he prompted her.
“They won’t tell me why. They won’t give me answers.” She turned to look him in the face, tears openly falling. “They’ll never tell me why those people would want to kidnap me, even if they know.”
“Do you blame them for what happened?” he asked.
“I… I don’t know!” she cried. “I don’t know who to blame! I might as well blame them!”
“Don’t say that,” he replied. “You shouldn’t blame your parents. You should respect them.”
“Respect them?” she cried. “My dad is an ex-military general, and my mum grew up in the streets. He was dishonourably discharged, and then he met her. What respect?”
Prompt from Trifecta.